


Pop! Goes The Weasel

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: Carol, Therese, and Rindy join Abby for a small barbecue in the backyard of her home.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Kudos: 39





	Pop! Goes The Weasel

Therese held a paper plate as Carol served her pasta salad with a pair of tongs. 

“That’s way too much!”

“I’ve seen you eat large portions before. I know more about your tummy than you do, darling,” Carol bopped her head. She lays a napkin and fork before moving towards the bowl of hamburger macaroni. Grabbing the wooden spoon, she scoops a glob and serves it next to the salad.

As if to prove a point, a loud, gurgle comes underneath Therese’s shirt, making her fluster with embarrassment. 

“See?” Carol smirks, ushering for her to move further along the picnic tables for the Hawaiian rolls. 

Abby leans back in a lawn chair with a plate of her dinner, eating some grilled pieces of asparagus, watching Rindy windup her brand new toy, a classic Jack-In-The-Box. A nursery tune jingles out from the yellow wooden box when Rindy spins a silver handle built from one side. Rindy keeps winding the box until the lid pops open, revealing a circus clown in a blue jester suit. 

“That’s a pretty neat toy, honey.”

“Daddy got it from a pawn shop! He told me it reminds him of you!” Rindy exclaims.

“Your father always did have a sick sense of humor,” Abby snorts. She refused to touch the box once Rindy tried giving it to her. “Go bug one of your mothers with it. Let Aunt Abby eat...”

Back at the picnic table, Carol brought over her glass soda bottle and purposely sat herself on top of Therese’s lap, making her raise up her plate. 

“Comfy,” the blonde sings, wiggling her shorts-clad bottom in circles on her lover’s lap, getting Therese to set the paper plate down behind them.

“And you’re heavy,” Therese grunts. She rubs Carol’s back, leaning over to rest her face, closing her eyes.


End file.
